Make The North Great Again
by SansaBolton
Summary: AU. Robb's twin sister Lyanna was left in Winterfell with the young Stark boys, but when she is tricked by Theon she becomes a captive of the Ironborn. Suffering the deaths of most of her family, including her youngest brothers, she is devastated and ready to take back The North at any cost.. When the Boltons take control of Winterfell she finds out just what any cost really means.
1. Chapter 1

Lyanna's eyes were dull with hatred. Her face had worn the same steely mask every day of the past fortnight. Steely though as her face may have appeared, it also bore the clear marks of abuse. Her cheeks were doused with an unhealthy amount of purple and yellow bruises; remnants of what had been done to her the first several days after Winterfell was lost to the Ironborn traitors.

While she was forced to sit at her father's table, in the chair that once belonged to her mother, next to a man who she had once seen as almost a brother, Lyanna held back her nausea. The only way she could sit through endless days of people swearing loyalty to this traitor was to go somewhere else, and so go somewhere else she did.

Lyanna was still in Winterfell in her thoughts, but this Winterfell was very different. Her father and mother were happy. She practiced swords not so secretly with her brothers. She sat docilely sewing with Sansa and Septa Mordane while Arya did their best to disrupt them. She almost had a ghost of a smile on her face before Winterfell changed again.

Now it was a more grim place, Father and the younger girls were leaving for Kings Landing. Bran was hurt and hadn't awoke. Rickon the baby was crying constantly for his mother who was losing her mind. Her twin Robb was now the de facto Lord of Winterfell in their father's place. She had sat in this very seat next to Robb as they made plans together. Plans that had led to Robb gathering a host and marching South. Winterfell changed once more.

Now it was the day of the Ironborn invasion. Lyanna could almost cry because she had been so stupid. He had marched right to their gates with that ugly Kracken banner and she had opened them. Welcomed her seudo brother with open arms, and he had seized Winterfell from her. Her two youngest brothers were lost in the fighting only to be returned to Winterfell as charred little bodies, hung from a rope. Fighting to regain control of herself Lyanna shook her head lightly and allowed the scene to change back to present day Winterfell.

She was seated next to Theon Greyjoy, her father's former ward, and her brother's former advisor. He had betrayed them all and run home to his own father and then captured his former home in the name of the Iron Islands. Lyanna almost laughed when these men referred to Theon as "Prince" because her whole life he was a captive who was lucky to be allowed to roam freely. Now here he sat, like a prince, in her father's chair handing down orders and hearing oaths.

There was no question why Lyanna was seated next to him. He had made it clear the moment she was drug before him in the Great Hall. She was to be his wife and lend her name and blood to his claim on Winterfell. Of course Lyanna had immediately decided that there was no scenario in which that took place. She would either take his life, or take her own; the former being her preferred choice, but either would do.

Even if Theon hadn't slain her innocent younger brothers she wouldn't have married him or let him touch her. He was crass, and had always been so. Robb and Theon had only ever quarreled when Theon had been inappropriate with his friend's twin sister, which was frequently. Though Lyanna took after her namesake and was fierce and brave like her brother Robb, she was raised with a Lady's manners so much like her sister Sansa she cared not for the foul words Theon had often whispered to her.

This particular day was unremarkable. Nothing of particular interest happened. She woke, she dressed, she took breakfast in her chambers, she sewed until Theon summoned her for lunch with him in the Great Hall. He insisted on this so his men and the men of Winterfell would see his intent to make her his own. She sat there in silence every day, refusing to meet his wandering gaze. Then they usually sat there for several hours as he heard from his advisors and petitions from the common folk. At diner he would be sure to place his hand on her leg and whisper filthy things to her, hoping to see her shudder. More often than not they were foul things he was planning to do to her on their wedding night which was fast approaching. But what he did not know was Lyanna was not there for any of that. She was in a different place, far away, where Theon Greyjoy died a thousand times and her brother was still alive.

News of Robb's death had raked through Winterfell the day before with a harshness she couldn't have prepared for. Theon had even appeared a bit off color as some men recited tales of how his wolf's head had been sewn onto his own as they paraded the King in the North's lifeless body through the Twins. Lyanna had simply met Theon's eyes with a cold hatred and turned to leave the room. He grabbed her hand, for a moment she met his eyes and there was the old Theon inside, who looked like he almost wanted to comfort the girl he'd grown up with. But as quickly as she saw it, it was gone. He suddenly released her hand and walked away as if the moment never happened.

Lyanna didn't allow tears to fall as she reached her chambers. Those tears had come and gone when she'd been forced to stand under Bran and Rickon's lifeless bodies. She had wept for them for so long she had thought to herself _that is it, I have no more tears for anything again._ Then and there she'd decided to be a Stark. Tully emotion had caused her brother to marry his love and end his agreement with the Freys, which cost him his life and their mother's life. Tully emotion had caused her one sister to remain loyal to the Crown even as their father's head was gone. Tully emotion had caused her other sister to flee the Capitol with no notice of where she'd gone. Tully emotion had caused Lyanna herself to open the Winterfell gates to Theon and led to the deaths of… she couldn't finish the thought.

No. From that day on she was a Stark. But not a Stark like her father, who died for his honor, no she would survive. She would be smarter than all of them. She would be the leader the North needed. One day. She grimly thought of the other smart Stark. The one who was not considered a Stark at all, her half-brother Jon. Yes, Jon was a smart. Though at first she begrudged him staying at the Wall when the war came and took Robb from her, Lyanna had realized that he made the right choice. He was still alive, after all.

So here, alone in Winterfell with the Ironborn, Lyanna Stark shed no tears. The only things looming above her were how to kill Theon or herself. She was in her chambers waiting for sleep to take her, dreaming of these things when the door suddenly burst open. It was Theon himself. Panicking for a moment, worried he'd decided to take her for himself now she fumbled with the furs to cover herself. Once her eyes adjusted she saw his face and recognized what she saw: fear.

Theon paced rapidly through the room, muttering nonstop. Lyanna realized now that in the distance she could hear a horn sounding. They were soon to be under attack. "What is happening…" Lyanna began. Before she could finish Theon held a hand up. "Just stop! I can't think with all this noise.. THAT DAMN HORN!" She realized it must have been going on for quite some time and she must have been soundly asleep for it. Theon was clearly at his edge of sanity. He paced some more.

Occasionally he would say things like "just take her now, that way they can't have her? Take her with me? Go where? The crypts? Maester… but no. Cant. Can I? What to..?" These fragmented thoughts were repeated over and over as he shook all over and paced for several hours. He only stopped when he screamed obscenities at the horn player who could certainly not hear them.

Lyanna took the time to dress quietly. Theon didn't seem to notice or care. She moved slowly through her room dressing in the clothes she wore when she would spar with her brother Robb. Of course in her head she was using that term graciously for Robb never seriously fought her. Though he had taught her how to wield a sword better than most men, his height and stature would put him at an advantage over her in almost any scenario. Keeping all of this in mind, Lyanna calmly eyed the sword Theon had looped on his belt.

As the hours dragged by it was almost morning, now she could hear the shouts in the square, and she knew the castle's siege was over. The Ironborn had lost. Lyanna knew that there was no guarantee the victor of Winterfell would be a friend to her, and more likely than not, this was not the case. So, deciding that no matter the outcome she would be pleased as long as Theon died, she grabbed for his sword and successfully wrestled it from him. In but a moment she had pinned him to the ground with it. Theon didn't have any expression besides surprise on his face.

In his mania he'd forgotten Lyanna wasn't a simple girl like Sansa and wasn't a tiny girl like Arya. With one boot on his manhood and the other firmly planted on his sleeve, Theon couldn't move to grab her sword without hurting himself terribly. Hearing the footsteps on the tower behind her didn't move her to go any faster, Lyanna was set on memorizing this. She wanted to go to her death, whenever it was, with Theon Greyjoy's final moments etched in her memory forever. He would pay for his crimes, and he would pay now.

The door burst open behind her, and she did not turn. She heard an exhale of tired breath and realized the man who entered the room had been running up the stairs with some haste. His voice was strong and firm, "what is this?" He wasn't angry, but he also was commanding. He wanted an answer so Lyanna calmly gave him one. "I am Lyanna Stark, daughter of Eddard Stark the deceased Lord of the North, sister of Robb Stark the deceased King in the North, and the eldest remaining Stark heir, and in the names of my father and brother, as the Lady of Winterfell I sentence Theon Greyjoy to death for his treason against my family."

Now the man was next to her, though still she hadn't looked over at him. He was level with her feet, gazing down at the helpless man on the floor. The man asked another question now, curious, "you overpowered him and took his steel?" Lyanna was again unmoving, but answered. "Yes." A soft laugh came from the man. "Well my lady, I apologize to have to take this victory from you, but my father does so desire this prisoner to be taken alive…for now." Lyanna gripped the sword a bit tighter. Seeing this, the man began again, "though I do promise that he will be punished more severely than a quick death, when his time comes."

Realizing she was again changing hands, and any action she took against her new captors would put her at greater odds with them, Lyanna slowly moved the hilt of the sword towards the man. He took it gently from her, and made Theon stand. With a silent flick of his wrist several men entered the room and roughly pulled the heir to the Iron Islands from her chambers and whisked him down the stairs. Now that they were alone Lyanna raised her gaze to meet the strange man's smile.

He was quite tall, with shaggy dark hair not unlike her brother Jon's, though shorter and straighter. He was good looking, and dressed well so she took him to be a man of wealth and noble birth. He quickly offered his hand to her. "My lady, forgive my rudeness, I forget my manners in the heat of the battle." She extended her hand slowly and he took it in his own, giving her a light kiss on her knuckles as was proper for a lady of her status.

"I am Ramsay Bolton, son of Roose, the Lord of the Dreadfort." Lyanna's eyes danced with recognition and then suspicion. Ramsay did not miss either. With another smile he offered her his arm, "I will take you to my father, he is most interested in speaking to you." Seeing no other option Lyanna took his arm and followed him to the Great Hall where they found Roose.

Roose Bolton was standing in front of the head table where he had lain out maps of the North. He was moving markers around and adjusting some in other places, and was deep in conversation when Ramsay and Lyanna entered. Finally an advisor tapped him on his shoulder and pointed. Seeing his son there with the Stark girl was a welcome relief. _It was not all for naught_ , he thought to himself. Roose had worried the Ironborn had killed or damaged the Stark girl beyond all repair and that his plan would be harder to carry out. With her safely in their hands he had a secure hold on The North.

Extending as warm a smile as he could muster Roose Bolton greeted Lyanna. "Lady Lyanna, your beauty has truly grown with each passing year. I am troubled with the manner of our meeting today but am glad to see you are safe." Lyanna stared back at him without words. Roose knew why. "I must first clear the air and let you know that I had no part in your brother and mother's deaths. I was alone in the hall with them and had no men at my aid, had I tried to save them I would be dead too and the North would be Walder Frey's to take." Lyanna let a small part of her frown lessen.

"I see. I thank you for ridding the North of the Ironborn Lord Bolton, my father always considered you a trusted advisor and friend, and he would want me to offer you our thanks." Roose smiled. He was glad to see she had her manners. This was important for the part he meant for her to play. "My lady, you will be safe here with us. There is much to discuss, but perhaps after we have all rested. May I have some of my men escort you back to your chambers?" Lyanna held her head high, "as you please my Lord." Ramsay looked for a moment like he had something to say, but he bit his tongue and looked down. Roose did not miss that but made no mention of it.

As the men escorted Lyanna Stark to her chambers Roose Bolton returned to his planning and Ramsay Bolton marched himself down to the dungeons of Winterfell to begin a new project. Perhaps none of them knew what was in store for the days to come, but every one of them knew it would be unlike any of the days that had come before…


	2. Chapter 2

The Boltons were kind to her. Though their reputations preceded them for being vicious Lyanna saw none of that in the days following their liberation of Winterfell. She joined the Bolton men and Lord Roose's new wife Walda Frey at their table for most of her meals and found them the sort of people she could sit quietly and listen to. She didn't know them that well, having only met Roose a handful of time in her life, and having only met Ramsay and Walda several days ago; so she stayed quiet most of the time, choosing to listen rather than be heard.

What she found was that Roose seemed to be a serious man who didn't often smile, but offered light comments or compliments when he deemed them appropriate. Walda was a simple woman who was only slightly older than Ramsay and Lyanna, though equal to the two of them combined, in weight. She seemed jovial and kindhearted, often trying to make polite conversation with Lyanna. Ramsay was different than the both of them, he was polite, and spoke respectfully, but Lyanna could tell that it was only because his father was present. He had a wildness to him that was unfamiliar to her.

She had heard the whispers that before they came to Winterfell that Ramsay had been Roose's bastard and until recently was known as Ramsay Snow. Now he had the Bolton sigil as a badge of honor on every piece of clothing he wore. Lyanna had also heard whispers that he still encouraged the practice of flaying men, as was the Bolton traditions of ages before. This didn't bother her quite as much as the stories about what he did to his mistresses when he was through with them. She had shuddered when she overheard the serving girls speaking in hushed tones about the girls he had sent his dogs after, or hunted on horseback.

Though he was always painstakingly polite to her, Lyanna kept her guard firmly up and never offered him more than a tight lipped smile. She had no intention of growing close to the heir of the Dreadfort, though she was certain this went against Roose's plan for her. It had seemed quite clear to her from the moment they arrived that there was never something to be gained with nothing. Roose had been made the Warden of the North by King Tommen and was holding Winterfell as his keep for the time being.

Finally, the day came a little more than a week after their arrival when Lord Bolton summoned Lyanna to the square. As they walked through the outside square in the center of Winterfell a light snow was beginning to fall. Lyanna waited for him to speak, and when he did he said the words she had been waiting to hear all along.

"Lyanna, I wish to ensure your continued protection, as well as our hold on the North. This can be achieved quite simply through a marriage of you to my son Ramsay. What do you think of this?" Roose was not a man for twisted words, he was straight to the point. Lyanna stopped and turned to him, "I will do what is necessary to secure the North." A smile spread gently across Roose Bolton's face. _What an amicable girl. A shame Ramsay will want to rip her apart, she'd make anyone else a lovely wife._

Preparations began immediately. They were to be married before the week was over. Preparing herself Lyanna began eaves dropping as often as possible to hear what the serving girls said. It seemed common knowledge that he had a mistress at the Dreadfort, and that he had brought her here. Lyanna wondered who this was. At some point during the week while she was taking a bath one of the serving girls was a bit too rough with her. Lyanna was temporarily annoyed and told the girl to leave her to bathe on her own, when she was taken aback by the girl's reply. "If you think that was rough you ought to prepare yourself for Ramsay."

The girl didn't look the slightest bit concerned that she had just addressed her superior with no title, nor that she had referred to Ramsay by his given name, not Lord Ramsay. Lyanna knew instantly why. "I would ask you for tips but seeing as he will be done with you soon enough, I suppose I don't need any." This took the girl by surprise. Her mouth hung open for a moment and in that pause Lyanna leaned back into her warm bath and waved her hand, "you may go." The girl slammed the door behind her and Lyanna let out a laugh. His mistress was her maid? Too easy.

The day had arrived. Her wedding day. Lyanna couldn't lie to herself and say she wasn't nervous. She certainly was. She knew there was no avoiding the outcome of the evening. She would lose her maidenhead in a painful and loveless manner, no matter how polite Ramsay had been to her all week. She had thought about it quite a lot, and had some idea of how to make things less terrible for herself, but truly there was no telling what would happen when they were finally alone.

The ceremony was lovely, in all aspects other than the fact that her family was not in attendance. Lady Walda offered her a kind smile and tried to make conversation throughout the feast. She had even offered tiny bits of advice for her wedding night, but Lyanna had learned more in her eaves dropping on the serving girls. Finally the time came for the bedding, but it didn't happen. Lyanna waited and waited, and nothing.

As she waited she drank goblets of wine, more and more, and more. At one point Ramsay caught her eye and gave her a half smile with that crooked grin of his, and downed his own goblet. He finally leaned over and whispered, "are you ready my lady, or will you have more wine first?" Blushing from the wine and the comment Lyanna set her goblet down, "I am ready." With that he took her hand and let her silently out of the feast. As they reached her chambers she asked, "won't they be displeased there was no bedding ceremony?" Ramsay smiled full now, "I wouldn't allow it. The thought of other men touching my wife made me… unhappy." His eyes danced with a dangerous glimmer.

As she slowly began undoing the laces of her bodice and corset Lyanna realized the more he spoke to her the more she would learn, and the more she could use that to help her situation. She decided to echo his thoughts. "You don't like people sharing your things…" she began. Ramsay smiled again, his smile was wide and her uncertainty of why he smiled made it a bit terrifying. "No. I do not like to share." He started towards her, having taken his boots off already.

Lyanna tore her bodice and corset off, pushing her skirts down with them before he reached her. She had a sense he would have like to do that but she had a different plan for the evening. "Then you should not worry, as you will never need to share me." With that she met him in the middle of the room and put both hands on his chest.

Seeing her only in her pale, thin, silky night gown had him more than aroused. She was more forward than he expected, but still clearly a maiden. Her hands on his shirt enticed him but he wanted them on his bare chest. Before he could move to remedy that she had found the laces of his shirt and pulled it off. He enjoyed the surprise. Now with her long delicate fingers on his chest he crashed his lips against hers.

They were soft and plump and he found them to be delicious. Knowing he was the first to touch any of her had made him insatiably excited for this. All of his lovers had been whores of some kind, but Lyanna was a noble lady as clean as the virgin snow on their window. As her arms wound into his thick dark hair his hands found her breasts and he was surprised to find them full and soft. She had hidden them well under her heavy cloaks, but no matter, they were there.

Just as he was enjoying the feel of her breasts under his hands she pushed away from him. Ramsay shook his head and realized he was not in control of this. He realized that this night was about one thing and it was putting his heir in the Stark girl, not acting out some girlhood fantasy of hers about her wedding night. But just as he prepared to push her onto the bed he found she had tugged his trousers down and was on her knees in front of him.

She looked up, and simply said "by your leave, my Lord.." and then his cock was in her mouth. His eyes grew wider than ever before. _This was unexpected!_ He hadn't ever heard of highborn ladies who wrapped their mouths around cocks, just the lowborn girls and whores. This was not what he had counted on happening on his wedding night but with his cock in the back of Stark girl's throat there was no way he could argue.

Though he was sure she was a maid, the intent with which she set to work pleasuring him almost made him question her. Had their Maester not inspected her he would have doubted it completely. _Her virginity being intact doesn't take into account how many cocks she has had in her mouth._ A soft voice inside his head said. With that dark thought ringing in his mind he grew angry.

Ramsay grabbed a handful of Lyanna's dark shiny hair and pushed her head further and further down on his manhood. The choking sound and momentary confusion satiated his thoughts. _No she didn't know I would do that, she's not done this before._ Pleased again he let her continue uninterrupted. When he was growing close to his seed spilling he thought to warn her and then realized that if she would dare take over their wedding night he would let this last bit come as a surprise so that he might take some joy in her disgust.

He spilled his seed with no warning and it went full into his new wife's open mouth. Ramsay said nothing but looked down expectantly. With one final calming breath in, Lyanna Stark did not allow her resolve to crumble. She met his eyes and swallowed his seed whole. Rising, she took a delicate finger and ran it around her mouth, sucking the last bit of his excretion off of her finger before she sat down on the edge of their bed. Ramsay's smile grew wider than it had been all night. She had won, but he found he had absolutely no complaint about it.

He joined her on the edge of the bed and took her hand from her lap. He put the same finger she had just taken from her mouth into his own and sucked it. "Did you enjoy yourself, wife?" Lyanna peered over at him, "I thought the point was for you to enjoy yourself, husband." She said the word pointedly because he had done the same. Ramsay laughed a small laugh. "No the point was to put an heir in you, but I think I may have enjoyed this more than I would have enjoyed that, which is why I did not stop you." Lyanna looked down and replied in a quiet voice, "perhaps tomorrow night then?" Ramsay realized her game, she had delayed the inevitable by one night and it pleased him to know his wife was clever.

"Oh it will happen soon my wife, do not doubt that." As she climbed into bed he realized he was supposed to stay there too. He looked at her naked form, and slowly traced a finger down between her breasts, past her navel, and between her legs. Stopping only when he was met with her tiny gasp of surprise he met her eyes. "Oh I will have fun with you little wife. If you are as prepared as you were this evening, you may have some as well."

With that he climbed into the bed next to her and soon fell asleep. Lyanna faced the other way, trying to not touch the man she was suddenly married to. Trying to not think about the things that had just transpired. Trying to be anywhere else.

She considered what she had learned. Ramsay certainly tortured people but he seemed to enjoy pain being inflicted on himself too. He had seemed so aroused with her nails on his back and her teeth lightly brushing his manhood. He also certainly liked control but had enjoyed her surprising him. He wasn't as simple as his father, and she would need to figure out more. Soon she too was taken by sleep, and she found she slept easier knowing a bit more about how to deal with the man she was supposed to share the rest of her days with.


	3. Chapter 3

The morning after her wedding Lyanna Stark.. _no, Lyanna Bolton_ she reminded herself, awoke alone. Looking around her chambers she found that her new husband was nowhere to be found. Lyanna felt a momentary twinge of annoyance. Had she actually imagined he would have woken her up or still be waiting for her in her chambers? _Of course not, don't be stupid_ Lyanna thought to herself.

Standing and pulling on her dressing cloak Lyanna took a deep breath and began to survey her chambers. This room was the one she had inhabited her entire life at Winterfell. The chambers next door had belonged to her brother Robb, and she suspected that was where Ramsay's private chambers were now. The chambers were very similar to how they had always looked, save for the new Bolton banners hanging from her walls.

Even if her surroundings were the same, Lyanna felt very different. She was now someone's wife. She took a minute to realize she didn't fully know what being someone's wife meant. Sansa had always wanted to be someone's wife, but not Lyanna, she had never listed to their Septa when she described the wifely duties a woman performed on a day to day basis to run a household. Sure, she had been present for those lessons and dutifully responded correct answers, but Lyanna hadn't truly listened.

Suddenly realizing her situation Lyanna rose. The Boltons weren't going to offer her any instruction and she had a feeling Ramsay would be angry if she didn't do what was expected _whatever that was…_ So Lyanna began to think back to her mother, Catelyn Stark. She thought about what her mother did each day, and the types of duties she had. Sure, Lady Bolton.. _or Fat Walda Frey as everyone else called her_ was responsible for running the household, but she had only just arrived, and she certainly hadn't run a household as large as Winterfell. Lyanna thought for a moment, if she could make herself useful perhaps that would go a long way to keeping Ramsay from bothering her.

Lyanna began to dress herself, seeing that no lady's maid had come to dress her or do her hair. She went about her normal morning routine, but today choosing to wear a dark dress rather than one of her usual brighter clothing. She had noticed Ramsay and his father often wearing black or navy blue and she decided to mimic them. She styled her hair carefully this morning. Normally Lyanna would have a maid braid two thick pieces of hair in the front of her face and tie them back to keep her hair out of her eyes. But, today, she took several smaller pieces, and soon had many small braids from each side of her face tied back.

When Lyanna stood back and looked into the reflective glass on her desk she considered her appearance. It looked very intricate and certainly did not look like she had done it herself. Smiling at her handiwork, she silently thanked Sansa for being so insufferable about hair braiding when she was a little girl. For the next several minutes Lyanna shuffled around the room cleaning things up from the previous evening. She made the bed up prettier than the maids had ever done, and set things back to how they had been before her wedding night.

Just as she stood back to examine her work two maids breezed in the room. They were gossiping between themselves and they didn't see Lyanna until they had entered and shut the chamber door again. Their eyes grew wide and the one speaking covered her mouth. Lyanna stood silently, waiting. She didn't recognize either of these women, but they certainly recognized her. These must have been Bolton maids because Lyanna had never seen them before. They immediately dropped to the lowest curtsies Lyanna had ever witnessed. Practicing the voice she'd heard her own mother use on many occasions the new wife of the heir of the Dreadfort.. and Winterfell, spoke.

"I see that the Boltons do not take the promptness of their help very seriously. I have already cleaned my own chambers and dressed and done my own hair, what possible service then could you ladies offer besides the malicious gossip you were spreading when you walked through my chamber doors?" The maids looked up at her, horrified. When they spoke, they both spoke at the same time. They stumbled over their words and made excuses that they had never waited on a lady before so they didn't know they were to do her hair or dress her, and that they didn't know she would still be in her chambers when they came to do their cleaning. Lyanna shook them all off with a disapproving frown.

"I won't have this type of laziness in my Lord husband's household. Bring me to his chambers immediately so I can supervise the proper care is taken." The ladies bowed and escorted her to Robb's old rooms. As the ladies took her inside she scoffed. "You haven't straightened his chambers yet either? What have you been doing all morning!" The maids again looked down, one of them replied with a tinge of annoyance in her voice. "We _have_ straightened his chambers already the day before last my lady."

Lyanna's eyebrows shot up, and her hands found her hips. "You stand before me and tell me you've straightened these chambers recently? This is an absolute disgrace!" Before she knew what she was doing she found herself picturing the warm way Robb had his chambers arranged; the way the fire crackled always in his large fireplace, the way his desk was neat and full of letters, the way the Stark banners hung from his walls, and the way his bed was arranged with fine furs. Now she considered the room in front of her and scoffed.

"These are not the chambers of the heir to Winterfell, and I'd know! This is disgraceful and I will oversee the changes to it this afternoon." The same maid who had made a comment earlier began to protest, "but these are Lord Ram-" Lyanna held up her hand, "you will not ever address me without my title, and you will certainly not presume to tell me what I will and won't do in my home. If you speak one more rude word to me I will have your tongue pulled out with hot pincers!" The look of horror that flashed on the maid's face told Lyanna she'd hit a nerve.

Quite pleased with herself that she finally seemed to have said the right thing, Lyanna returned to her chambers to take her mid-day meal. She read from a book she had loved as a girl, and soon realized she'd spent a little too long taking a reprieve from the work she was planning on. After her meal she set about straightening Ramsay's chambers the way Robb had them. Lyanna had a feeling Ramsay hadn't had any say in how his chambers were done and simply didn't know any better, so she felt no apprehension in the changes. Before lunch there was a roaring fire, a tidy desk, a barrage of new Bolton banners on the walls, and fine furs draped over his bed. Standing back to examine her work Lyanna sighed. "There. Now that's how Lord Ramsay's chambers-"

But she didn't get to finish that sentence, for there in the doorway to his chambers stood Lord Ramsay himself. With a wide smirk, he was casually leaned up against the door posts. "Ladies.." he began in his deep drawing voice, but he didn't have to continue because his hand wave told the maids they could leave immediately.

Now Lyanna found herself alone for the second time with her new husband. Eyes wide she suddenly realized this may be a huge breach of his privacy to come uninvited to his room and change his things. Dropping to a curtsy and lowering her head Lyanna began "my Lord…" Ramsay was in front of her now, with his hand under her chin, raising it up to meet his piercing gaze. "dear wife, you must not call me that when we are alone. I'm your husband now so you may call me Ramsay, as I'd like to call you Lyanna." Standing to meet his gaze Lyanna nodded her head slowly.

"Ramsay." She was almost testing the words as if he might strike her for calling him by his given name. His smile told her to continue. "Ramsay, I am so sorry if I have overstepped my boundaries but when I saw the state of your chambers I felt the maids weren't doing their duties so.." His smile widened as if he knew a secret she did not. Lyanna trailed off, unsure of how to proceed.

"..so you scolded them and restored my chambers to their intended glory?" Lyanna nodded softly. Ramsay let out a small laugh. "I was walking by earlier and heard you scolding the maids. I must say, 'hot pincers' is a surprising choice of words for such a pretty young girl." Lyanna's eyes widened again. She could feel her cheeks growing hot with embarrassment. "Lord- I mean, Ramsay, I am so sorry if I spoke out of turn, I only wanted to make sure you were being properly respected in my- our home."

Ramsay took one of her small hands in his, Lyanna had to fight not to shudder at the touch. Standing tall and meeting his gaze, she was unsure of what his next words would be. He had closed the door when the ladies left so they were totally alone and he was free to do with her as he wished. This frightened the Stark girl a bit. She knew he wasn't prone to gentleness and his taking her hand in his only increased her alarm.

"My dear wife, I must confess, when I heard your tone and the words you used to scold the maids I was shocked…" Lyanna wanted to lower her eyes in shame but she continued to stare back into his piercing blue eyes that seemed to be dancing with excitement. He lowered his voice a bit, and stroked her hand with his free hand. "I didn't think you had the ability to be so… commanding. I must say, it took all that I had not to interrupt and demand to have you right there and then."

Lyanna could tell he was playing another game with her. He was meeting her gaze not to intimidate her but to gauge her reaction to each word he said. It was very smart, but she was just as clever. So she replied in turn, "why then, my husband, did you not?" Ramsay's grin filled his face again. "You seemed so determined to teach those ladies a lesson and fix my chambers I couldn't bear to take you away from it. But now…"

As he trailed off, Lyanna found herself bold enough to finish. "But now.. we are alone, and the task is complete." Ramsay moved a little closer to her, and spoke a little softer, "yes… yes it is." He lifted his hand to her face, softly brushing her hair away from her cheek. "You have proved to be much more interesting than I thought. I like that Lyanna. I like that very much. Tell me, what do you desire? I think I'd like to give you something to show you how willing I am to be good to you if you continue this.. What is it that you desire?" Without thinking, but knowing every word he said was intending to read her for her weaknesses, Lyanna refused to give in, and she said the one word she knew he couldn't have expected. "You."

With that Ramsay lost control for a moment, he had already felt the building tension as he spoke so quietly and so close to her face.. He could feel her breath on his skin when she said the word 'you' and it sent him over the edge with desire. He threw his wife down on his freshly dressed bed and ripped at her corset. Hearing his wife give a sigh of pleasure as he reached her breasts and took one in his mouth Ramsay's thoughts raced.

 _She isn't what I expected. I'm meant to put an heir in her, but she is young and so am I.. There is plenty of time for that. She won't be much fun when she's with child, so why not wait a bit longer._ Resigned to not spilling his seed in his wife this evening Ramsay changed his direction. He realized he wanted to reward her for her actions that day, to show her what being a good girl would earn her. With a devilish smile he began kissing his wife's neck.

Hearing her little sighs of pleasure drove him wild. His manhood was practically throbbing against her as he lay on top of her, kissing her and touching her breasts. After a moment he inched one hand down to the place between her legs and found the opening. He smiled as he kissed his wife because to his delight she was wet between her legs, without having been touched there yet. He was glad to see she desired him, in fact it made him want to please her more.

Ramsay scowled internally for a minute realizing he was doing something for someone other than himself, and almost stopped, but her baited breath and wetness between her legs drew him back in. He realized that as a virgin she had no idea the things he could do to her. Each little squeal was genuine.. this drove him to manipulate his fingers even more deftly than he would have normally done. He was rewarded in turn with heavy breathing and sighs from the girl beneath him.

At one point he realized his wife's hand had found his manhood, and she was stroking it gently or quickly, in turn with how he stroked her. He grinned and thought to himself, _she's learning fast…_ Enjoying this for a while Ramsay allowed himself to let out a few moans into her ear. This made her wetness grow between her legs.

Finally deciding he was enjoying himself quite a lot and had to find his release, he stood. As he began stroking himself he looked over to his wife, "apologies, has to be done now." But before he had moved very much there she was on her knees in front of him, this time both breasts bare and neck red from his mouth. With those big eyes looking up at him he allowed her to place his cock in her mouth again. It didn't take long, the whole scene in front of him was so erotic he was bursting at the seams in moments.

Panting, and letting himself sit down on his bed, he considered the girl in front of him. She was young, beautiful, yet stern. He had listened to her threaten his maids only this morning as any lady of a fine castle would, yet her language was vulgar, almost like his own. Then she had changed his chambers around, and when he offered her a prize she requested only him. Now here she was after another surprising sexual performance, awaiting his next words. _I like this one._ He decided. _I think_ she does deserve a reward..

With no further pause he sat his wife at the edge of the bed and pulled up her skirts. Lyanna's face looked apprehensive, she hadn't thought he would take her after all of that, but she supposed it was his right. She quietly leaned back onto the bed and allowed him to continue bunching up her skirts, when suddenly- what! Something was happening, his pants were not down and it was his head near her womanhood, not his cock. Lyanna's eyes grew wide as she opened her mouth to ask what he was doing, "Rams-" but before she could even speak his name her hands clamped down on her lips to avoid letting out a loud cry of pleasure.

She had no idea things like this took place, but over the next several minutes Ramsay buried his face inbetween her legs, kissing her in the most private of places. Running his tongue along her… along her everywhere. At first Lyanna had tried to be quiet and ladylike, but after letting a moan escape and feeling his reaction to it, Lyann a soon moaned freely and twisted her fingers through her husband's long dark locks. Finally, after not too long, a huge wave of pleasure rolled over her and Lyanna called out her husband's name.

Thinking back Lyanna couldn't remember what possessed her to say Ramsay's name. It wasn't part of her calculated plan to win him over to her side of things. No, it was something else. Raw pleasure? Only a week before she would have shuddered at the thought of this man between her legs, and yet as she fell asleep in her chambers she couldn't help but wish the man on the other side of the chamber wall was in her bed with her again.

 _ **AN: hey guys! Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think so far or let me know if there are any characters or storylines you want to hear more about or see in the story. Thanks!**_


	4. Chapter 4

Myranda was jealous. Ramsay could tell by the way she scowled at him from across the room the past several days. His plan to upset her was working well, he thought to himself as he listened to his father and their advisors discuss business. Originally the plan had been to ignore her the first several days after he was wed, and to only visit her bedchamber a week later when she was properly riled up with anger, so he'd enjoy their little visit all the more. But, a week after his wedding day had come and gone and somehow he'd not found himself walking to Myranda's chambers yet.

Sure, he had a lot more on his plate now. Ramsay spent most of his days in meetings with his father and his father's council, and most of his free time on a new special project he was doing on the Kraken in the Winterfell dungeons. That didn't leave a lot of time for the hunting trips he and Myranda used to take together. In fact, he didn't find himself missing them lately.

No, he had the Kraken to keep that sadistic urge in him sated. As for his other…urges… Ramsay had largely avoided more contact with his new wife after deeming himself too gentle with her in their previous meetings. Yes, he had enjoyed himself, but he couldn't risk her thinking he was some star eyed boy who was going to make love to her like the knights in all those tales girls tell.

Whenever Ramsay ran across the Stark girl he was sure to act as standoffish but polite as he could muster. He wanted her to see she was part of an arrangement necessary for him and his father to hold The North. This was not anything more than that.

After a week without speaking more than 20 words to her new husband, Lyanna seemed to have gotten the message. She no longer smiled at him when she ran across his path in the halls of Winterfell. She would offer him a "Lord Ramsay" or "My Lord" and a nod, at the most. In fact, even to Ramsay's shock, the last time he'd seen her she had fully ignored his presence and walked past him without sparing a polite 'hello' or nod to him at all.

More than two months past his wedding Ramsay Bolton realized he had never consummated the union. He had thought of it in passing several times though felt no real urge to do it. He had taken to seeing to his own needs in the privacy of his chambers, as he couldn't be bothered to visit Myranda as of late, and didn't desire any further contact with his wife. But now he realized he had failed in the largest part of his duty.. to produce a Stark and Bolton heir to Winterfell.

Deciding he could not delay this any longer he found himself walking to his wife's chambers this evening rather than his own. Entering without a knock he took in the scene in front of him. A maid was bathing Lyanna in the large tub in her chambers, and Myranda was straightening the dressing area with Lyanna's clothes for the morning laid out. Meeting Myranda's eyes Ramsay barked his orders, "out." Both ladies quickly left the room, but not before Myranda threw him an evil jealous look on her way out.

Lyanna hadn't raised her head. She seemed unbothered with the disruption. Ramsay walked over to the tub and spoke again, "this marriage must be consummated. I have waited too long. It happens now." He tried to sound as cold as possible. He was counting on a hurt look or some indication that his wife who had seemed all too eager to please him was confused as to why he had been ignoring her. He received nothing of the kind. In fact, she didn't open her eyes when he spoke. She merely shrugged her shoulders deeper into the water and replied almost lazily. "I suppose you'd like to do this straight away?"

Ramsay arched his eyebrows. He couldn't believe she was acting as if everything was normal. He had hoped she would confront him. Crossing the room he began to undo his leather shirt. "Yes. Get out and come over here." He decided to act as though things were normal then, as well. He'd show her who was in charge in a moment.

Before he could get his boots off there she was. Dripping wet, with long dark hair trailing down her back, his wife was at the foot of her bed. He had expected her to put on a dressing gown or robe of some kind, but she showed no modesty. Refusing to allow this to shock him, Ramsay looked back at himself and began undressing again; though he found himself stealing a couple of quick glances at her naked form waiting for him.

By the time he finished the dripping of her hair had almost stopped, she was not quite dry though and her skin had little bumps all over it from the cold. Her nipples were what caught his eye and he allowed himself a moment to gaze openly at her. Finally his wife broke the silence.

"Whenever you're ready." With that she leaned over the edge of the bed with her chest down on the furs, and her exposed backside towards him. His eyes widened and he felt his manhood stirring. He again found himself shocked at her lack of modesty. He thought she would be horrified when he bent her over like that and took her from behind against her bed. That was part of his excitement planned for the evening. But this.. no this was unexpected.

Ramsay Bolton sneered to himself. _If my wife won't give me the satisfaction of seeing her upset, I'll have to take my satisfaction elsewhere from this_. Without a word he entered her roughly and proceeded to do his "duty" in that manner for quite some time. He could tell his wife wasn't enjoying this as she had the other things he had done to her those months before, and he didn't care. He was furious that she'd been so rude to him and was exacting his revenge.

After some time, he could tell she was making some noises but was stifling them. For a moment he considered she might like what he was doing to her, so he made an effort to enter her womanhood harder and rougher with each thrust. Finally, spilling his seed in her, Ramsay sat next to his wife's still figure on the end of the bed. 

As Ramsay pulled his clothes back on slowly and went to wash his face in her wash basin he turned to catch a quick glimpse at his wife. She had slowly pulled on a robe and laid in to her bed. He thought he saw something strange about her face but he couldn't tell what. Just before his hand touched the door he was sure he heard a stifled little sob, and he turned back to look. But when he looked over to his wife's bed she was turned over and he could not see her face any more.

Before he let any of that get to him Ramsay hurriedly left Lyanna's chambers. Walking slowly down the corridor to his own chambers he thought about what transpired. _I did not enjoy that as much as I thought I would. Certainly not as much as I enjoyed the first night we spent together. It had to happen. It was my duty- it was HER duty. I did nothing wrong. And, if I did something wrong, it is not her place to lodge a complaint. I'm her husband and I've treated her better than dozens of other men would have._

With these thoughts Ramsay Bolton found himself in his own bed that evening. He'd done the same thing to Myranda dozens of times in the past. She hadn't cried like that after. He couldn't figure out what could possibly upset the Stark girl so much about the encounter. She'd ignored him the past several months and hadn't shown any indication she'd missed his company when he'd barged into her chambers this evening. She'd even offered herself up in that manner when he'd come to take his marital rights. Why then would she be so upset afterwards?

Not realizing he spent so much time thinking over it, Ramsay had drifted off to sleep. When he awoke in the morning he enjoyed the feeling of the warm furs on his bed. He was glad they'd been placed in his chambers because he often heard his father complain about how cold the mornings at Winterfell were. It seemed to Ramsay that he had been lucky enough to get the finer bed coverings.

As he continued getting ready Ramsay glanced out his window which had a view out into the main courtyard at Winterfell. He noticed his wife Lyanna standing alone over to one side of it. She was standing just in front of an archway gazing up at it. Ramsay stood at his window watching for a few moments. He couldn't see anything she would be looking at and half wondered whether his wife had gone a bit mad. The only thing of note on the archway were two spots near the top that were dark.

 _Probably from a fire or some smoke._ He thought to himself. _Smoke!_ Then suddenly Ramsay remembered the story he'd heard from her about what had happened to the two little Stark boys. Lyanna had repeated it to Roose Bolton and his son the day after they had taken Winterfell from the Ironborn. She had stood there with no emotion recounting how the Kraken had led her out to see the charred bodies of her brothers, hanging from an archway in the courtyard. He had made her stand under it for hours she said.

Ramsay made a face. _Maybe she has gone mad. Why would she go stand there all morning?_ Realizing how angry his father would be if the Stark girl was suddenly overcome with madness Ramsay decided to speak to her today. He went down to breakfast to find his favorite jam waiting for him, and happily ate his meal with a cider drink he preferred. These foods hadn't always been easy to come by, but recently the cooks seemed to have straightened things out.

By the time he made his way to the courtyard he had all but forgotten his need to speak to his wife. He didn't see her by the arch but he grabbed the first woman passing him by and questioned her. "Where is Lady Lyanna?" the woman appeared to be a seamstress in the castled and was visible startled by the Bolton heir speaking to her. "My l-l-lord she is normally in the godswood now." Ramsay frowned. He hadn't thought of that. "Fine. Wait- she was here earlier this morning, did you see her?" The woman nodded, "yes, by the arch." Ramsay pressed on, "has she done that before?" The woman gave him a very sad smile and nodded, "every morning." Ramsay frowned and let her arm go. "Go on then."

The woman hurried away as Ramsay found himself walking towards the godswood. The Boltons kept the Old Gods like the rest of the Northern houses did but he wasn't one to visit the sacred trees or speak to gods. Finding the entrance to the godswood Ramsay walked slowly inside until he saw Lyanna.

She was wearing all black, and had her head in her hands as she sat on a small bench near the old Weirwood Heart Tree. With none of his usual glee associated with seeing someone cry, Ramsay Bolton crept forward quietly, until he was sitting next to his wife. He didn't speak, he just sat and waited. Several moments passed before Lyanna looked up. Her face was red and blotchy, she certainly didn't look as regal as she normally did. But there was a different kind of sad beauty in her watery eyelashes that appealed to Ramsay.

For once, the Bolton heir realized he didn't know what to say at all. He just sat there silently as his wife looked back at him waiting for him to speak. Finally, when he could take the silence no more Ramsay opened his mouth, but closed it again when he couldn't find any words. Instead, he took one of her small hands in his and placed it in his lap.

Lyanna gazed ahead at something Ramsay couldn't see. After a few moments she finally spoke. "This would have been Rickon's fifth nameday." Ramsay's lips drew in tightly. He could feel her pure unhappiness radiating from her body. "I promised myself I wouldn't cry ever again after the things Theon did to me, but after last night and now today I couldn't stop myself." Ramsay nodded. He still didn't know what to reply, and Lyanna took his nod to mean she could continue.

"I am alone here. I will be alone forever. I wanted to come here and pray for Rickon's spirit but instead I'm crying about being alone. I thought I could try to be part of your family but I was wrong, your father thinks I'm a stupid girl, your step mother IS a stupid girl, and you hate me though I've gone out of my way to try and make everything here the way you like it. I don't know what more I can do, and I don't know how much longer I can go on like this. I am alone and I think I shall be forever."

Hearing her words Ramsay thought back to all the things he'd enjoyed this morning. The warm furs on his bed, the food and drink he preferred for breakfast. He suddenly realized his wife was responsible for that. He hadn't remembered she knew how to run a household and had been keeping things going smoothly for him and his father without so much as a word, much less any thanks. Then he thought back to the previous night when he'd been so rough with her even though she'd been willing, and how he'd left her alone without a single spoken word when he was finished.

For the space of one moment Ramsay Bolton was overcome with guilt. Or as close to guilt as someone like him could truly feel. He did feel bad though. Finally speaking Ramsay held his wife's hand a bit tighter, "I haven't thanked you for all the work you've been doing. I am very sorry and I do appreciate the things you've done for me. I realize I have been very rude to you the last several months and I regret that… I didn't consider how difficult this must be for you."

Lyanna gave him a small sad smile. "Thank you." Ramsay's heart panged with a small regret. _That's all she wanted. Those few sentences I spoke were all she's wanted these last months and I would have never guessed._ "I appreciate you-" Lyanna began to speak again but was interrupted suddenly by Ramsay. "Wait." His face was confused. "What did you say before? About Greyjoy?"

Lyanna's eyebrows furrowed, "about Theon? Just that I wouldn't cry after everything he did to me." Ramsay spoke slowly now, gaining anger with every word. "What do you mean by, 'what he did to me'?" Lyanna closed her eyes, "I don't want to-" but Ramsay grabbed her other hand and faced her towards him, "tell me now." When Lyanna's grey eyes met his usually bright blue ones they were nearly black.

Ramsay was walking with a purpose. He was moving so fast Lyanna had to take 3 steps for every 1 her husband took. She was trailing behind him calling out, "wait, Ramsay please wait. Where are you going? What are you doing?!" But he wasn't listening. He didn't care if she followed. Right now all that mattered was that the Kraken was punished for putting his nasty hands on Ramsay's pretty little wife.

 _It doesn't matter to me that the Kracken hadn't "raped" her. He'd touched her. He'd violated her. He'd forced her to do foul things to him, and that was more than enough. The nasty Kraken has hurt my beautiful little princess in the North before I even got her. What if he'd ruined her forever and I hadn't been able to wed and bed her? What then would have happened._

With these evil thoughts in his head Ramsay was hell bent on getting to the furthest cell of the Winterfell dungeons where he had Theon Greyjoy strung up on a Bolton Cross. So far he had just been having some fun flaying little bits here or there, but today that ended. He would make the Kraken pay for what he had done.

As he reached the cell he saw Theon Greyjoy's gaunt and nearly lifeless face look up at him, for a moment it lingered there with fear before his gaze drifted over Ramsay's shoulder and suddenly changed to one of shame mixed with some horror. Ramsay glanced back to see his wife. She was standing a few paces behind him, looking up at the man she grew up with chained to the torture device, missing bits of skin all over, and 50 pounds lighter than he had been months ago.

One of her small hands had covered half of her open mouth, but no sound had come out. Slowly, she let the hand fall back to her side. She breathed in a few times and glanced over at Ramsay and nodded. As his wife backed up a few steps Ramsay walked forward.

"You have told me a great many things about the Starks since I arrived Kraken… You failed to mention one very important detail though." Theon's small, scared, eyes darted back to where Lyanna was leaning back against the wall, still very silent. Ramsay's eyes glared. "Yes. You failed to mention you VIOLATED my wife."

Theon quickly found his voice, "But I didn't know-" Ramsay didn't allow this, "NO. You mentioned a great many mundane things but NEVER that you laid your filthy Ironborn hands on my wife. It matters not if you knew she was MINE, you touched what was not YOURS. And as MY servant you were duty bound to tell me. You will pay dearly for what you did to her, and you will never harm her again. Since you've harmed what I care for, I suppose I should harm what you care for."

With that last simple line, Ramsay drew out his flaying blade and cut Theon's manhood from between his legs. The screams of the Greyjoy man could _almost_ be heard above in the Winterfell Great Hall where Roose Bolton enjoyed some blood sausages for a mid-day meal. _Almost._

After some time of his screaming and screeching, the Greyjoy boy just hung there sobbing quietly. At this point, Ramsay remembered his wife had been present and considered that she had most likely left when he drew his blade, or shortly after. He almost felt bad for doing that type of foul thing in front of her after how dejected she had sounded earlier that morning. But when he looked back, he was surprised to see her still standing there against the cell wall.

Lyanna straightened up and walked slowly over to her husband who was wiping the last bit of blood from his hands. Without a word Lyanna Stark Bolton took Ramsay's hand in hers and gave it a small squeeze. _Thank you._


	5. Chapter 5

Several months had passed since Ramsay had cut Theon Greyjoy and in that time he had settled into a routine of sorts with his wife. They would break their fast together in the morning, and discuss various things they had planned for their days. They would then go about their separate schedules and meet again for supper with Roose and Lady Walda, in the private dining chambers of the Lord of Winterfell. This was a more formal affair than their morning meal, but all the same it was normally a polite, quiet meal.

After dinner Ramsay would normally walk his wife to her chambers and kiss her on the hand or forehead, and then retreat to his own chambers. After the business with the Kraken, and the incident with being so rough with Lyanna that same day, Ramsay was pointedly avoiding further physical contact with her. He prided himself with his amount of control, and told himself it all proved he was worthy of being his father's heir someday.

Ramsay even took his wife riding with him once or twice, out of pure, unadulterated good will. He again felt some small amount of regret for his previous behavior when he saw the joy she had when he took her riding outside of Winterfell. He realized her life must be very mundane if a simple ride such as this was this exciting. One of those occasions he even asked her what type of things she liked to do as a girl at Winterfell, and she told him about practicing archery with her twin Robb, and bastard half-brother Jon. She left it unsaid, but he knew the Kraken would have been there too.

While having supper with his family one evening, Ramsay reflected on the conversation he had had with his wife that afternoon. Ramsay hated the thought of his wife growing up with the Kraken that was chained in his dungeon. Sure, the Kraken was hardly a ferocious beast anymore, no he was more of a pet. Ramsay smiled when he considered the changes he'd brought about to the Greyjoy man. He was a broken thing now. Ramsay's own pet. As Ramsay laughed to himself about this the servants began to clear away the meal and his father cleared his throat.

"We should discuss some changes coming to Winterfell shortly, why don't we retire to my study." Lyanna gave Ramsay a curious look and he took her hand and squeezed it reassuringly. He didn't know why he felt more responsible for her wellbeing lately, but the sadness he'd seen in her eyes as she discussed missing her family had actually struck a chord with him; having been given up by his own mother. Taking her hand in his, Ramsay followed his father and Lady Walda into his father's nearby study.

The servants had left the room, Lady Bolton had walked over to sit in a more comfortable chair near the fire, and Roose Bolton had walked over to his desk reading over a piece of paper. He read the lines a few times and then turned. "I have some good news.." Roose Bolton began. Lady Walda was sitting by the fire listening intently, Ramsay was standing with his wife who was still clutching his hand very tightly, and Maester Tybald had appeared and was standing off to the side near Lady Walda.

"Lady Walda is with child. Maester Tybald assures me she carries a son in her womb." Roose met Ramsay's eyes with intent. Ramsay was too clever for that. He wouldn't have some childish outburst in front of the rest of them. He merely smiled and nodded. "Congratulations father!" Lady Walda and the Maester grinned stupidly from across the room. Before Ramsay could speak again Roose interrupted. "This means Winterfell is no longer for you, Ramsay. But no worries, I believe we can still spare you the Dreadfort when I am gone." Lord Bolton said it as if it were a challenge. He was waiting for Ramsay to make a comment. Ramsay would not yield.

Seeing there would be no outburst, Lord Bolton continued. "There is one problem that remains. If my trueborn son is to take Winterfell after I am gone, there can be no challenger. I can not risk the eventuality of a male with Stark blood coming to claim the North, so you will need to remove that possibility." As he said this Roose Bolton's eyes never left his son's. "You would like me to kill my wife." Ramsay said simply. Lyanna gripped his hand tighter than ever before now. "Yes."

Lord Bolton didn't even do Lyanna the decency of making eye contact with her as he sentenced her to death. He continued speaking, "we will find you another bride. I hear that the Mormont's have a young daughter. She can wed you in a few years, and will have a lifetime to give you sons, or a lifetime for you to torture her; I couldn't care less which." Ramsay smiled and let go of Lyanna's hand. Her eyes grew wide as he walked away from her, and went over towards his father. _He was almost kind to me these past few months and it all ends now. He will kill me for his father._

Ramsay reached out to his father, wrapping his arms around him in an untypically warm embrace. Lyanna watched as her husband ran his hands along his father's back, digging in just a bit too tight. Roose didn't seem to care. As they pulled back, Roose said " you will always be my first." Ramsay put his hand on his father's shoulder and smiled. "I'm glad you said that, father." He then turned his head to look at his wife, "Lyanna my dear, I'm afraid things are about to change." Roose looked pleased for just a fraction of a second before Ramsay's blade dug into his stomach.

Lyanna didn't flinch. She had seen Ramsay feeling his father's body for chainmail and instantly knew what was to happen. She was prepared. Before Lady Walda had time to react Lyanna had crossed the room, shoved the Maester out of the way, and put her hand over the fat woman's mouth. "The Starks send their regards." Ramsay looked up from his dying father in time to see his wife slit Walda Frey's throat, and sink the knife deep into her fat belly.

Ramsay was particularly pleased to see his father didn't expire before he had the chance to see what a perfect match he had made for his son; as the senior Bolton's eyes did not glaze over until moments after he saw his wife's throat slit by his daughter by law. As Ramsay collected himself he began to wipe the blood off his favorite blade. He saw his wife had grabbed the Maester by his robes and pulled him towards Ramsay.

Lyanna moved to stand next to her husband. She was the first to speak. "Maester Tybald, I will be sure that everyone knows you did all you could but the effects of the poison were simply irreversible." Ramsay looked at his wife with interest as she continued. "I'm certain you will be very busy tomorrow writing to all the Northern houses informing them of Lord and Lady Bolton's untimely deaths. Poisoned by our enemies so soon after their marriage. A tragedy in our own home.." She even shook her head sadly as if upset by the events of the evening. "I thank you for keeping your head in the wake of such awfulness. Your loyalty to **LORD BOLTON**.." she looked now pointedly at her husband so the Maester was sure of whom she was referring to, "…will surely be rewarded in time. Thank you for your council this evening."

The Maester had his mouth hanging open in pure horror for most of what she said, but when Lyanna finished speaking he had the decency to collect himself. "My Lady, you are right, I will be drafting those letters shortly. I will alert the other Northern houses and make them aware of these tragic events. So lucky you yourself and Lord Rams- Lord Bolton, I mean, were late for supper this evening and did not drink the wine." Ramsay smiled widely. His wife nodded. "Very well, thank you Maester Tybald."

As the old Maester left the room hurriedly, Ramsay grabbed his wife's hand yet again; almost as if he was unsure why he had let go of it in the first place, and walked to the door. They only had to walk a ways down the hall before they came upon one of Ramsay's personal men. Ramsay ushered him into the study with them and began to speak. "As you can see Orwyn, my Lord father and beloved Lady mother were poisoned by our enemies this evening at dinner. Please send for a few men to wrap my father's body up. He will be buried back at the Dreadfort with his father."

Orwyn nodded, not fazed by the scene in front of him. "And her?" he jerked his head towards the still dripping body of Fat Walda Frey. Ramsay's eyes glinted. "The dogs must eat." With that he raised his hand and kissed Lyanna's, which was still linked with his own, and walked out of the room, bringing his wife with him. When they reached her chambers he prepared a bath on his own, and began slowly undressing his wife. Lyanna was silent as she allowed him to strip her of her bloody gown. Ramsay undressed as well, and in a moment the both of them were sitting in the bath.

Ramsay took his wife's small hands in his own and examined them. They were covered in dark, dry, blood. Lyanna watched him as he interestedly turned her hands over in his. When he was finished he began scrubbing them with a sponge and some soap. "I think I like this look on you." As Lyanna's expression looked confused, Ramsay answered her unasked question. "Murder." Lyanna's face broke in to a complacent frown. "There weren't other options." Ramsay continued to scrub her hands, "oh I know. She would've been too big of a risk. I'm sure you're pleased you were able to collect that debt the Frey's owed your family." Lyanna nodded, "I can't say the thought didn't cross my mind."

They sat like this, washing the blood off of each other in silence for some time, before Ramsay stood and wrapped his wife in his own dressing robe. He used a cloth to dry himself off before he climbed into her bed. Lyanna followed suit and joined him. As her husband settled in to go to sleep, he wrapped his arms around her body for the first time, holding her. In a quiet voice she finally asked the question she had been dying to know the answer to for the last several hours.

"Why."

Ramsay didn't need his wife to explain what it was in reference to. He knew she would ask why he killed his father for her. "Because you recognize that I am as important to you getting what you want as you are to me getting what I want. We have the same needs and wants, and we could be a great team. My father didn't care about any of those things, only having a trueborn son. He could care less about what I wanted, and the time for me tolerating that was over."

Lyanna laid there in silence for a few moments, and then replied. "I think I understand. I'm useful to you, and he no longer was." She hadn't meant it to sound like a jab, but once it left her lips she certainly heard it come out like that. Ramsay turned her to face him now. His eyes were open gazing into hers intently. "I do care for you. Not in the way you probably dreamed of as a girl, but I care for you and I don't want anything to happen to you." Lyanna smiled. "I know that. I saw what you did to.. what you did to Theon." Ramsay scowled in the darkness. He hated when she said the Kraken's name. Another reminder they had a history together.

Lyanna smiled gently. "I know you did that for me." She took her hand and placed it on her husband's face. Rubbing her thumb along his jawline and the newly formed stubble of hair she continued, "I would do the same for you." Ramsay smiled, "I saw that tonight. What you said to the Maester was better than anything I would have. I need you to help me with all of my future schemes." Lyanna laughed softly, "will there be many more? I may grow tired of scheming soon!" Ramsay laughed now, "I don't believe that, you will do fine."

As the silence settled between them Lyanna's thumb found the edge of Ramsay's lips in the darkness. She touched them lightly with her fingers and after just a moment they were crashing on to hers. Ramsay's strong hands were on the small of her back, and as her hands twined into his dark hair, he moved his hands down to her backside, cupping it. A little moan escaped her lips and Ramsay breathlessly pulled away.

"I want to give you something. Something you want, only I don't know what that is. What you did today ensured that I became Lord of Winterfell, and I got exactly what I've always wanted. Now I want you to have something." Lyanna looked away. She didn't dare answer how she wanted to. Sensing her hesitance, Ramsay grabbed both of her hands in his and squeezed them reassuringly, "only name it and it shall be yours." Lyanna met his eyes again, and replied the same way she had the first time he had asked her this question.

"You."

Ramsay smiled, "haven't we done this before? You've already had me though.." as he trailed off Lyanna almost lost her nerve, but she felt a wave of confidence rush over her as she realized she was now the Lady of Winterfell. She could ask for what she wanted. "Today I ensured our sons will rule the North when we are gone. I want to make sure nothing jeopardizes that. So I want you, and only you. I want you to be mine only, and take no other women to bed with you again. I will have no bastard child try to take Winterfell from our sons." Ramsay felt his member throb as she said the words "our sons" as he realized she spoke of their heirs.

He smiled and cupped her face in his hands, "no other woman would dare speak to me like this, or request such a thing. But there is no other woman I would have as my wife, so I suppose that is a just request. I will have them all killed tomorrow, unless you'd like to do it yourself." Lyanna looked horrified for a moment, "killed?" Ramsay smiled plainly, "of course, can't have them running around Winterfell looking for ways to get rid of you. They've got to be killed. Now that I think of it, there's only Myranda left now. The rest are gone." When he said gone she knew he meant dead. But all the same she appreciated his newfound tact with her.

Lyanna sneered when he said the name "Myranda" she hated her. Ramsay grinned at this, "yes you don't like each other do you? Well before you get all upset, I haven't been with her since we wed, believe it or not. I'm not as awful as I seem. But I shall get rid of her all the same, she's a risk." Satisfied with this, Lyanna closed the distance between them until her lips were right next to her husband's ear.

"You mean there's been no one else since we…?"  
"No one."  
"Does that mean you're very..?"  
"Very."

With this Ramsay pulled the robe of his wife and began kissing her body. This time when he entered her it was gently, and deftly. He enjoyed himself much more when he could listen to her moans, knowing they were because he was skillfully bringing her pleasure, rather than just punishing her for bad behavior. He found his release after some time, and as he laid in bed with his sleeping wife he found himself thinking of all the things he would do with his son and heir someday…


End file.
